Alone
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Bereft
Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and the day was past.
Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch's sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Always
I am not jealous
of what came before me.
Come with a man
on your shoulders,
come with a hundred men in your hair,
come with a thousand men between your breasts and your feet,
come like a river
full of drowned men
which flows down to the wild sea,
Alone
I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.
I am alone, as though I stood
On the highest peak of the tired gray world,
About me only swirling snow,
Above me, endless space unfurled;
Alone
In contact, lo! the flint and steel,
By sharp and flame, the thought reveal
That he the metal, she the stone,
Had cherished secretly alone.
At Last She Comes
AT last she comes, O never more
In this dear patience of my pain
To leave me lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.
A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed
If God compel thee to this destiny,
To die alone, with none beside thy bed
To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said
And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee,-
Pray then alone, ' O Christ, come tenderly!
By thy forsaken Sonship in the red
Drear wine-press,- by the wilderness out-spread,-
And the lone garden where thine agony
Fell bloody from thy brow,- by all of those
Permitted desolations, comfort mine!
From Sunset To Star Rise
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not:
I am no summer friend, but wintry cold,
A silly sheep benighted from the fold,
A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot.
Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot,
Dwell in your pleasant places, hoard your gold;
Lest you with me should shiver on the wold,
Athirst and hungering on a barren spot.
For I have hedged me with a thorny hedge,
I live alone, I look to die alone:
The Wise
Dead men are wisest, for they know
How far the roots of flowers go,
How long a seed must rot to grow.
Dead men alone bear frost and rain
On throbless heart and heatless brain,
And feel no stir of joy or pain.
Dead men alone are satiate;
They sleep and dream and have no weight,
So Alone!
So alone in my bed
Alone listening to nightly whispers
Alone in my thoughts
Alone standing in court
Alone I stand and fight
Alone I pray for rainbow lights
Alone in the morning I awake
Alone I celebrate my joys
Alone I cry out my sadness
Without You
My Pillow gazes upon me at night
Empty as a gravestone;
I never thought it would be so bitter
To be alone,
Not to lie down asleep in your hair.
I lie alone in a silent house,
The hanging lamp darkened,
And gently stretch out my hands
To gather in yours,
Alone
The abode of the nightingale is bare,
Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,
The fox howls from his frozen lair:
Alas, my loved one is gone,
I am alone:
It is winter.
Once the pink cast a winy smell,
The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell,
Light in effulgence of beauty fell:
I Am Not Alone
The night, it is deserted
from the mountains to the sea.
But I, the one who rocks you,
I am not alone!
The sky, it is deserted
for the moon falls to the sea.
But I, the one who holds you,
I am not alone!
Loneliness
Loneliness becomes a 'space' in time where,
Nobody seems to speak to you, you are alone,
Suspended, whilst time endlessly continues,
And your alien existence turns your mind to stone.
Will no one come to break the voice of silence,
Will no one listen, do they ever know
That you alone are calling in the darkness,
Can they to you, some great compassion show.
Teaching Xviii
Then said a teacher, 'Speak to us of Teaching.'
And he said:
No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of our knowledge.
The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness.
If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.
The Lonely Soul
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
No other soul as his companion
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the daybreak
He does his duties
In the walks of life
The lonely soul wanders
Alone On Sea
Alone i lay on a wooden raft
Alone i stay in the dark
Alone i pray to survive
Alone i may not survive
Alone i look out the sea
Alone i wake up on the sea
Alone i seek out for help
Alone i may not survive
At Night On The High Seas
At night, when the sea cradles me
And the pale star gleam
Lies down on its broad waves,
Then I free myself wholly
From all activity and all the love
And stand silent and breathe purely,
Alone, alone cradled by the sea
That lies there, cold and silent, with a thousand lights.
Then I have to think of my friends
And my gaze sinks into their gazes
Crowds
It is not given to every man to take a bath of multitude; enjoying a crowd is an art; and only he can relish a debauch of vitality at the expense of the human species, on whom, in his cradle, a fairy has bestowed the love of masks and masquerading, the hate of home, and the passion for roaming.
Multitude, solitude: identical terms, and interchangeable by the active and fertile poet. The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd.
The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself of someone else, as he chooses. Like those wandering souls who go looking for a body, he enters as he likes into each man's personality. For him alone everything is vacant; and if certain places seem closed to him, it is only because in his eyes they are not worth visiting.
Mr Snowman
All alone, a snowman stands, staring out at the world.
What a life!
Short, cold, freezing really,
rigidly waiting for the 'melting' feeling to arrive.
The children have made him as comfortable as they can.
A nice bright red check scarf, a carrot nose, which he can nibble on, if he gets a bit peckish!
Nice black velvet hat, which he feels is worth having, cos it makes him feel important, and keeps his head warm!
They usually build him a friend, someone he can chat to, but not this year.